When the load gettin' closer, hope they don't pull him over I know my bows over, sack 'em up and keep the over Dope weighing over, please don't weigh it over It's losing water rapidly, I whipped it up with soda Count the money over, and feed the junky

But I forgive, I been forgiven, I hold grudges too Murda on the beat so it's not nice I was piss poor, sleeping on the dirt floor And we couldn't pay the rent so it's a notice on the door The neighbors been noticed so what I'ma front for? Using pennies

Metro, let's try something (dope) It's Drop top If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you I'm a ex con, used to sell crack at the Texaco Known for toting guns and it's what I'm on probation for

It's "Wifey" part three My Gucci says, "Blind for love," I can't see, yeah My girl, you can't be But I wanna see you up and out of them jeans, yeah If you're blowin' up my phone, I'll leave you on "Read," yeah I'm done with them fiends (Uh) I'm a

Firing at niggas, I'm firing at niggas I'm firing at niggas outside I feel like Malcolm X, I'm peepin' out the blinds Don't care if it's nine hundred niggas outside I'm coming out firing at niggas Firing at niggas I hear sirens, I'm firing I'm firing

Hope it's no hard feelings (No hard feelings, hard feelings, hard feelings) I broke so many hearts Hope it's no hard feelings Southside on the track, yeah Evil Genius Gucci season Brrr! Brrr! Haha Guwop, wizop

Cartier frames, call me four eyes Still can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed A lot of people still got a lot of shit to say about the clothes and the pics I post But it's a beautiful day outside today Don't know which car I'ma drive today Promoter

A igloo full of snow and a white stove House full of naked hoes snortin' blow It's so lonely at the top, plus its real cold A house full of hoes and they cookin' blow I'm in Zone 6 a.k.a. the North Pole Middle of the winter I pull up in a vert It's the

Niggas pistol popping like it's nineteen ninety nine I was nine maybe ten, then again never mind Press rewind, back in time before rappers dropping dimes Trap or die, choppin' pies with cliche's all in they rhymes That was Gucci, Prada and anything

Plus, they keep bud in the kitchen, fuck some eggs and grits Jimmy Henchman with the shipment, I sold a lot of shit Woke up in the mornin', bust down me a brick East Atlanta, Zone 6, Gucci really rich Heard I killed a man allegedly, but I didn't bust a